


Seven Cups of Tea

by fleurofthecourt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Charlie Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Loose attempts at Matchmaking, M/M, Sick Castiel, Sick Dean Winchester, Sickfic, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes Charlie three days and seven cups of tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Cups of Tea

It takes Charlie three days and seven cups of tea.

XXX 

The first cup is harmless enough. She boils the water herself in the breakroom early Tuesday morning, pours herself a cup of earl grey, then innocuously suggests the second mug go to Dr. Novak, since he stubbornly (and stupidly) came in sick. 

And Dean's office is next to Cas' office. It just makes sense. He doesn't even bat an eye. (Well, he's a little confused that Charlie is calling their colleague of five years Dr. Novak, but otherwise). 

"Maybe it'll make him sound less like he swallowed a quarry, since the dumbass won't go home." 

XXX 

The second and third cups, Dean asks Charlie to make between his own patients later that afternoon, because she has a lighter patient load (it’s not his fault it’s _Winchester_ Family Practice), and, more importantly, she knows how the water heater works. (He mastered the coffee maker. He thought that was going to be good enough). 

When she works the second part of this out, she drags him back to the breakroom, shows him where all two buttons are, and tells him he's a moron, in more ways than one. 

Dean raises both eyebrows in complete bafflement until she sighs dramatically. "The tea's for Cas, right?" 

"Don't see anyone else sick as a dog here. Not on company time." 

"Yeah, that's _all_ this is about." 

And that just makes Dean wrinkle his forehead more before grabbing the steaming mug. 

XXX 

The fourth cup Dean makes himself Wednesday morning with the honey lemon tea leaves that, after a decent amount of cajoling, Cas had specifically requested. 

He sets the mug in front of Cas before pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. 

"You're warm," he says, right as Charlie saunters into the breakroom. 

She grins like a maniac the moment she sees them but schools her expression as Cas turns his fever glazed eyes towards her, squinting and frowning. 

Looking oddly caught, she quickly mumbles, "I'll just go find Garth. Grab a thermometer." 

She practically runs back into the hallway before Dean turns back to Cas. "You have a fever, you're going home." 

"I promised Mrs. Barbara..." 

Dean puts his hand up to cut him off. "You're not getting any more of your patients, including Mrs. Barbara, sick. 

"Any more?" 

"You shouldn't have been here yesterday, Cas. You know that." 

"Or possibly several days ago and several days from now. The incubation period of upper respiratory infections varies so drastically I'm not certain it matters." 

"Doesn’t matter, Cas. You didn't need it, and neither does anyone else." 

In lieu of reply, Cas stares dazedly into his mug. Dean takes this as him admitting defeat and grabs his coat. 

XXX 

The fifth cup comes from a gift card Charlie stuffs in Dean’s hand after he turns down her half hearted offer to take Cas home herself. 

It would make more sense for Dean to stay. He is, technically, in charge right now. But he already has his keys out. “I need you here. Have Kevin work on who’s covering Cas’ patients. Kid listens to you.” 

“Yeah, because I don’t treat him like he’s a kid, and I’m not the boss.” 

“Neither am I.” 

“You are until your mom gets back from her conference tomorrow.” 

“Okay, well, for the next half hour, you’re the boss. Hope the kid still listens.” 

And with that, Dean steers Cas out to the Impala before heading to the nearest drive thru. He then shoves a mug of chai spice (whatever the hell that is) into Cas’ clammy hands. 

XXX 

The sixth cup Charlie makes for Dean later that afternoon. 

He's wincing as he tries to down a leftover burger and rubbing vigorously at his temple. 

Charlie, unfortunately, notices. 

She pushes some of the damn leaf water at him, and he shoves it aside. Because he is definitely _not_ getting sick. 

When he asserts this aloud, she pats his arm sympathetically. "You pretty much definitely are. But bright side? You and Cas could totally marathon something tomorrow. Bet he'd like the company." 

Charlie is probably (almost definitely) right, even if she does look weirdly mischievous about it, but, well, he’s every bit as stubborn as Cas. 

He gets up, dumps the tea down the drain, like the jackass he is, and heads back to his office while Charlie shouts after him. 

He can’t be sick. He has patients to see. 

XXX 

The seventh cup Charlie brings to his house the next morning on her way to the office. She’s barely started her spiel on how he’s not allowed to come in today when she catches sight of Cas standing over the kitchen counter in his pajamas, sporting bed head even more unruly than usual. 

“Cas _slept_ here?” she squeaks. 

And he's barely through side-eyeing her when Cas rasps,“Why wouldn’t I sleep here? I live here."

Charlie opens and closes her mouth without saying anything, and Cas continues,“And I’ve already told Dean that if he won’t let me go in, I won’t let him either. It’s really only fair." 

Refusing to outright agree with that, Dean mumbles,"Yeah, well, someone has to stop you from watching Jerry Springer reruns." 

Charlie snaps out of her wordless trance just long enough to sputter, “And, um, when did you move in...again?" 

"How long has it been, Cas?" Dean asks, wincing at his lack of voice. 

"About three months, I believe. You gave me a key after romantically informing me that it would really help you out if we shared a sock drawer, because you can never find matches, and all of my socks are the same." 

“Hey,” Dean throws his hands up, “you still took the key.” 

“I already had a spare key, Dean.” 

“Eh. You still love me.” 

“Yes, somehow, I do,” Cas says as he presses a plate into Dean’s hands. “I think it’s about the waffles. You should eat some.” 

As Dean takes the plate, he realizes that Charlie is still gaping at them. “What?” 

“You guys have been dating? For months? And you didn’t tell me?!” 

"Wait. Hold up, you didn't know?” 

Charlie waves her hand over her face. “Does this not look like surprise to you?”

“Did you not tell her, Dean?” Cas asks. 

“I thought _you _told her!”__

__“Oh my god, I’ve been trying to get you two to go on a date for years,” Charlie says. “I can’t believe you. You’re kinda lucky you’re both sick. I mean, I’m really excited about this, but I’m also kinda pissed.”_ _

__“Well, if it helps,” Dean says, waving towards the kitchen, “there’s more waffles. You can take some for lunch. And, uh, tell my mom I’m really sorry she’s out two doctors on her first day back?”_ _

__“Fine,” Charlie says. “But later, I’m making you two soup, and you’re going to spill.”_ _

__“The soup?” Cas asks._ _

__Dean wraps an arm around him and drags him towards the couch. “No, Spock, our love life.”_ _

__XXX_ _

__It takes Charlie three days and seven cups of tea to learn what Dean and Cas thought she already knew._ _


End file.
